ulvar-dominic-skar-blog

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Rumble Fish (1983) dir. Francis Ford Coppola

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hel · goddess of the dead and the underworld 

Hel, in Norse mythology, originally the name of the world of the dead; it later came to mean the goddess of death. Hel was one of the children of the trickster god Loki, and her kingdom was said to lie downward and northward. It was called Niflheim, or the World of Darkness, and appears to have been divided into several sections, one of which was Náströnd, the shore of corpses. There stood a castle facing north; it was filled with the venom of serpents, in which murderers, adulterers, and perjurers suffered torment, while the dragon Nidhogg sucked the blood from their bodies. Mention is made in an early poem of the nine worlds of Niflheim. It was said that those who fell in battle did not go to Hel but to the god Odin, in Valhalla, the hall of the slain. 

requested by: @anon

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Funeral polka

  No, enough about me. Let's talk about you What do you think about me? You might not have thought of me as often as I have thought of you Have you thought about that? Just think how many times I've imagined that visualized and directed your last hour No, I cannot help it It's my nature I put my soul into it  

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alessandrazabiinii:

“If I had mouth like yours, I wouldn’t even bother myself opening it,” Alessandra said angrily. She just watched how he laughed “You gotta stop this laughing, it’s pissing me off” she said. After Ulvar was kind of calm downed and asked her, that what he wanted to in the forest, Alessandra said with a grin “It’s all up to you what you want to do”

“Pisses you off? You really think I care whether or not I piss you off? You’re taking yourself a bit too fucking serious. I really couldn’t care less what pisses you off.” Ulvar snapped at her, a scowl on his face. “Truthfully, I don’t think you’d want to know what I actually desire to do.” He wore a grim smirk, and lit a new cigarette and pulled up his pocket flask once more, drinking generously from it. His mood was becoming foul, and really, he just wanted to drive a knife in her ribcage and stop her pretty mouth from talking. 

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eilidh--fawley:

Eilidh looked at him through narrowed eyes and she crossed her arms over her chest. “It’s in my job description to protect the school and it’s students.” She stated. “That include protecting students from other students.” She added as she walked closer to him. She stared at him, up and down, trying to understand what his game was…why on Earth would Dumbledore let a student that could be this potentially dangerous into the school. They had enough to worry about with the dark wizards and the death eaters, the attacks on muggles and muggle borns, she honestly didn’t have the time to follow a student around. 

She had read enough about him from his files to know that he was potentially dangerous. She felt uneasy around him, that was for sure… but she was asked personally to keep tabs on him, to keep an eye on him to make sure he didn’t fuck up his chances at being here. 

“Try to report me for sexual harassment. I’ve done nothing to you. I haven’t touched you, so by what means do you think Slughorn will believe you… a student who already has people on edge, over an auror? Hm?” She asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

This woman was being an downright annoyance to the young Slytherin. Meddling with his things, he really didn’t appreciate that. Truthfully, it was making him m a d, and it was hard not to let the anger surface. He couldn’t risk that though, of course he knew that, but Damn. He flashed her a sweet, sweet smile, took a deep breath and stared hard at her. “Protect students, from students? What on earth are you talking about? You’re taking your job a bit too serious, gotten you delusional an’ all.” 

“Herregud.” he muttered, or, well, more like spat under his breath. “Of course he will. I mean, if I cry. If I sob a bit, telling him how you never leave me alone, how you follow me around everywhere, and just how that is making a fragile boy’s mind messed up. I’m an orphan, y’know. I’ll automatically get sympathy.” He announced innocently. “Now, leave. me. alone.” He needed her out of the way, desperately. 

You'll never know the psychopath sitting next to you; Ulvar & Eilidh

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he knew his soul was rotten, and quite frankly, that's how he preferred it.

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Jack O’Connell and Rupert Friend in ‘Starred Up’ (Dir. David Mackenzie, 2013)

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narcissablvxk:

“Make them?” She asked incredulously. “Like, with my hands?” The very thought made Narcissa laugh as she shook her head. “Oh no, I don’t touch things like that, or make things, or do any of that sort of thing. My manicure costs as much as a low-income home probably does. I’m not risking them.”

Ulvar fought the urge to slap his forehead. Really? “You rich kids are god damn unique, you know that? Only thing you ever do is complain, complain, complain but you won’t ever actually do anything yourself. Your bloody manicure ain’t worth shit. You fix it with magic, Narcissa. You’ve never had the feeling of achievement? Of accomplishing something?” Ulvar had a pride in himself. He had accomplished a lot, by doing it all by himself. Not because he ordered someone or paid someone to do it. “Even the rich kids at Durmstrang prided themselves in doing thing.” he scoffed

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A fateful day

(tw: child death, tw: child murder, tw: knife, tw: blood, tw: gore, tw: insanity, tw: murder)

Cecilie Skar was frantically looking for her child, her heart was hammering. She knew it, she just knew it. He had done something bad. The laughter from the five year old had rang through the mountainsides. A chill ran down her spine and panic was rising within her. Cecilie ran as she heard a loud piercing scream. “Nei, nei, nei, nei.(no, no, no, no)” she trying to convince herself. She knew she should've known better than let him out this very day. She recognized that look in her child’s eyes, that morning, the same look that had been in her husband’s eyes. A look that had terrified her. Now, seeing that look in her poor innocent child, it broke her heart. She was so angry at herself for allowing him outside to play this day. Why? Why had she fallen for his charm? His promises of being a good boy, to leave the animals alone, his promises of not trying his knife on himself. His promise to only use the knife on trees, and nothing with life. She should've known better to trust him, she knew it. She knew that he was an awful liar.

 “Nei, Ulvar, kva har du gjort? (No, Ulvar, what have you done?)” upon arriving at the scene, the young mother fell sobbing. There he was, her little sweetheart, blood on his hands, blood on his face, blood in his hair, a knife in his hands, the body of a town’s girl at his feet. The little girl, she was just a child, and Cecilie didn’t even need to check if the child was ripped away from this life, the amount of blood seeping from the several wounds, spoke the truth. Ulvar had taken a life. Her darling son had a ripped an innocent life away from a family. Ulvar looked up at his mother, a wide grin on his lips, pride glittering from his eyes, like a cat holding up his dead mouse. “Ulvar...Ulvar, gutten min, kvifor? (Ulvar…Ulvar, my boy, why?)” his mother was sobbing. What had she done? How could she of let him become this monster? She loved him, cared for him, she showed him all this, every day. Cecilie had tried her best, being a single mom in the cold of Norway. Having done everything in her power, to be a good mother, she was devastated, heartbroken, at this turn of events.

 “Eg måtte bare.(I just had to)” his eyes were wild, ecstatic, and the child wanted so badly to bounce, so joyed at his achievements. It was surreal, really. “Mor, ikkje grin, det går fint. Livet er sånn, folk dør.( Mother, don’t cry, it’s okay. That’s life. People die)” People die? That was his comforting words at seeing his mother crying. People die? Did he even know what he had done? The small child dropped his beloved knife, the metal hitting the dead body. Ulvar hugged his mother’s feet, noticing that she was indeed upset. “Det går heilt fint, det komme til å gå fint.(It’s okay, it will all be okay.)” her child murmured comfortably against her. It was so evident though, Ulvar still held no remorse. Only remorse for making his mommy cry.

 That fateful day, was the day Cecilie Skar realized just how much alike his father, her beloved son was. It was the first out of several serious crimes Cecilie hid from the world, the crimes her son did, totally without remorse. Everything she had prayed for in years, had shattered. Flashbacks from her husband's rituals, his believes, his actions, and having seen the exact same look in her child’s eyes, made it clear. Ulvar was a danger to society and he needed to be kept away from the rest of the world so no more lives could be ruined.

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darlingxstella:

Stella gave him an odd look. “Durmsrang?” She questioned. “Isn’t that the school somewhere in Siberia or something?” She asked confused. Why on Earth did a kid get sent from Durmstrang to Hogwarts? Granted she was biased and thought Hogwarts was he best place in the world, but… to be transferred? That was almost unheard of. Not possible, but rare. She felt her face flush with heat at the wink and she took a drag out of her cigarette. 

When he used her last name, she felt her skin tingle and she didn’t know how to feel about it. “No.” She replied, glaring at him. “In fact I’m pretty sure if my house mates saw me right now they might say: ‘It’s about time’.” She scoffed. Actually she didn’t know if any of them would say that. 

“If you’re from Durmstrang, that must mean you were placed in Slytherin?” She asked, raising an eyebrow. She had a feeling she was right, she had read that that Durmstrang was a school that favored the dark arts. She looked him over, up and down, and yeah… he was a Slytherin, but to Stella… he didn’t seem all that bad.

“Siberia? Nah, not really.” he gave a casual shrug, before cracking a laugh. It was loud, perhaps too loud, but Ulvar really didn’t do the whole self-control thing. The glare, it lit a fire in him and he decided he was happy he decided to head to the tower on this very day. Even more pleased that he had decided to lock the door. He wasn’t the best with spells, but he knew some well. How to lock magically? No problem. It was second nature to lock doors, really. “Oh really?” there was a mock to his question. 

“Well, isn’t that stereotyping just a little bit too much? Beside, isn’t kind of stupid to underestimate the other houses? I’m sure you’ll find people with a knack for evil doings in each and every house, even your own precious one.” He dared her. Of course, he knew exactly why the girl pulled the connection of Durmstrang and Slytherin. Durmstrang did have a surprising tolerance for the dark arts. Actually, such a tolerance it made Ulvar’s transfer to Hogwarts difficult. Hogwarts didn’t allow a god damn shit and it was frustrating for Ulvar. Even he knew it would be stupid to get caught doing too much awful, being kicked out of Hogwarts too. Then again, Ulvar having been kicked out of Durmstrang was a pretty good cue that Stella was right. It took a whole lot to loose your place at his previous school. 

“Actually, thinking about it, I’m almost offended.” Ulvar was currently standing with his back against the girl, staring out. “It would be a pity, wouldn’t it? If your blunt accusation caused you to be, well, stuck here? Forever?” he was playing. That meant; he was playing about being offended. Truth was, he was looking for a reason to harm her. He was itching so bad to hurt her. She looked so delicate.

dangerous territory [ulvar & stella]

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My ongoing problem with Jack O’Connell’s stupid brilliant face in Starred Up, part two.

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get to know me meme: [2/10] male characters james cook - “One thing I’ve learnt is that you should never look back. The past is dead and buried. You get nothing from living there. It’s all about today. But I’ve been having these dreams. In them, nothing’s real. Nothing’s solid, everything’s fantasy. Fucked. An illusion. In these dreams, I’m a life that’s already gone by. Today means nothing. Today is just a ghost that’s haunting me. I’m at the end of the world, on the edge of things, and I think about letting go. I think about falling. My name is James Cook. I did something once. My ghosts won’t let me forget it.”

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narcissablvxk:

“Oh no no no,” Narcissa said as she shook her head. “I don’t do my own homework. That’s what Ravenclaws are for. Still I need to look like I am to avoid suspicion.” With a large sigh she twirled her quill between her fingers. “Once Daddy gets out I think I’ll ask him to donate better chairs.”

Ulvar was truly a slytherin by heart, there was no doubt. However, what really differed him from many of the Slytherins were their relationship to money. Ulvar was grown up poor, he was used to hard work, living in the cold. “Why not make better chairs then?” of course, this did sound highly little like Ulvar, but with the fact that he had an obsession for anything sharp, it was actually pretty logical that Ulvar was actually good at woodwork. When he had no humans to crave in, he had to do something, aka woodwork. 

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alessandrazabiinii:

Alessandra heard his laugh and how he said “Oh darling, you’re feisty!” and she turned around. She stepped closer to him and looked at him in the eye angrily. “Are you really laughing!? Are you enjoying it?” She was furious, but he had an amazing laugh! Oh dear lord, she thought. And she calmed down. “When you’re done, we can go to the forest. It’s getting boring here already and I need a change”

“It’s fucking hilarious!” still laughing, Ulvar could barely stand still. Her eye contact wasn’t making it any better though. He was still laughing, but over the course, the laugh got a little less manic, and a little more sinister. “What do you want me to do in the forest, then, sweetheart?” the last part was spoken with such irony.

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You'll never know the psychopath sitting next to you; Ulvar & Eilidh

Ulvar wasn’t stupid, by no means. Along with that, he was also highly paranoid. Which meant, he did notice. He felt it all over him how he was watched. How his steps, his movements, were tracked. And honestly, he was getting pretty fucking tired of it. 

“I’m really sure it’s not in your job description to stalk students. I might go to Slughorn, report you for sexual harassment.” Ulvar spat dryly, as he finally managed to corner Eilidh. She was good though, he had to admit, because he’d taken far longer than he wanted to realized it was her. What he really wanted to know, was why she was watching him. Was it Dumbledore’s orders? That old piece of shit. 

Just finished with potions, he had spotted her when walking out of the classroom. He was itching to talk to her, to find out exactly who she was. Why was she an auror, why was she watching him, what qualities made her an auror, so many questions and Ulvar’s curiosity was killing him. 

@eilidh--fawley

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darlingxstella:

Stella watched him as he took a pack of cigs out and lit one. She pulled her secret pack from the pocket of her bell bottoms and used her wand to light it. She had asked her brother to send her pack, saying it was for a friend who couldn’t get anymore and since her brothers know that Stella “Would never smoke”, little did they know here she was. Taking in a deep breath with the cig between her lips she looked back up at him. 

She wasn’t put off by his bluntness, because in all honesty, Stella could be just as blunt most of the time. One of her many Gryffindor Qualities peaking through. But that was also just Stella’s brash, obnoxious personality. “Stella Darling.” She answered him. “You?” She asked. She’d never seen him before. He had to have not be in her year and obviously he was in a different house because she at least recognized every Gryffindor. “You must be a year or so younger, because you aren’t familiar.” She stated as she turned away from him. 

Taking in a long drag, she exhaled and watched the smoke fill the air; not only from her, but also the smoke that he let out. “What are you doing out here anyway?” She asked, glancing up at him. 

“Ulvar Skar at your service. Transferred from Durmstrang a half year ago. Slytherin.” he flashed the girl a grim grin. Continuing to puff on the cigarette, he shrugged. “Exploring.” he winked in a teasing manner. More like searching each and every corner to calm his paranoia and also searching for anything useful.  “You though, Darling? What are you doing up here, hiding away with your little sin?” The slytherin question, the grim grin just not vanishing. Ulvar was in a peculiar mood, which in all honesty never meant good for anyone in the same room as him. Truth was, Ulvar’s main instinct in life, was to cause harm. He really couldn’t help it, and there were no changing that. His fingers itch after driving a blade deep into someone’s skin, someone’s flesh.  This girl? So small, so stunning, so....deliciously breakable. That was the trait he looked for in everyone he ever met. How breakable were they? How could he cause most pain. How did their body frame resist, how did their mind resist? The boy took yet another drag from the cigarette hanging loosely from his lips, awaiting her answer. A game was starting up in the midst of his brain, and unless Stella was a smart one, she’d soon enough become a piece of that game.  

dangerous territory [ulvar & stella]

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elle-greengrass:

“To be fair, just because something isn’t to your tastes, doesn’t make it nonsense,” Elle pointed out with a small shrug. She hated disagreeing with other people, and it made her apprehensive to consider that there would even be a slim chance of an argument. But she felt that Ulvar was being unreasonable, and she always became a bit defensive when it came to her special places and special hobbies. She rolled her eyes at his snarky comments, but decided not to remark on them. “With how the grounds are, there would probably be a lot of opportunity for solitary adventures at Durmstrang. Honestly, I would love that,” she agreed.

“Well, of course it does. Duh! If it weren’t nonsense to me, i’d have a taste for it. But something being nonsense doesn’t necessarily make it bad, darling.” Ulvar corrected her. Of course, if his corrections were an actuality was absolutely beside the point. “Solitary? Durmstrang? That’s a combination i haven’t heard before, really. It would almost be fun to see.” the boy chuckled to himself.